Of Sex and Strawberries
by RougishLady
Summary: Who knew our favourite Konoha nin had a thing for kink? Mild SasuHina [Unbeta'ed]


Summary : Sometimes our favourite ninjas just need a little mix of kink to spice up their day . SasuHina

She opens her eyes blearily and peeks at the light beams glaring through the window shades. Sighing, she closes her eyes and attempts to massage her forehead curbing bouts of headache and nausea. Shifting in her satin sheets, she turns around and faces her ebony haired companion.

Had they partied too hard last night? Was it worth celebrating the contract win this early?

The man seemed to move a bit almost as a echo to her motion. Yawning he brings his muscled forearm near his shadowed red-rimmed eyes if only to block the damn bright light. Then again neon was never his thing. Half awake, he whiffs a faint scent of lavender and almost as if a reflex draws the petite feminine body towards him.

His wife did have an enviable figure. Last night, he was painfully aware of just how gorgeous she looked in that sequin crimson number. To think he tore it off so greedily while he took her filled him with remorse. The discarded material laid listlessly torn somewhere near have salvaged for awhile.

She peers at him, and blushes how godly he looked naked. The sheets rippled down his toned chest with a hint of dark sheen body hair streamlining towards his manhood. Their marriage was that of convenience. Internal clan politics. With benefits. But as she glances at him, she finds the contract just doesn't stand anymore. She's being scrutinised under his jaded onyx gaze. Last night had changed things, a bit. She felt his longing in her ears and skin and there were enough signs of him losing control. The deep red bruise over her neck and beneath her breasts were glaring as if at their frolicking. Noticing her eyes, he lifts an arm and squeezes hers, as if an apology , his eyes hidden in his long locks. Hard to gauge his reaction, even for her, even if they had been married for a couple of years. Neither of them were impulsive people, neither of them ever fathomed the marriage would be passionate, intimate anything remotely romantic. And honestly they were doing okay . Subservient wife. Workaholic distant husband. What the hell happened?

Half lidded eyes noticed her long dark tresses fanning over her nimble alabaster figure, with the sunlight cast like a halo behind her, she looked otherworldly in every bit. Was she this beautiful always? Subconsciously biting his lower lip, he watches her blush go deeper shades of carnations as he moves towards her. Lifting up on his elbows, he reaches for her face and tugs a loose strand behind her opal eyes startled at how vulnerable he looked holding her. He watches her rosy lips part absentmindedly and as if on cue pulls her too long too dark hair.

Fucking Hyuuga. It wasn't supposed to be this complicated, he didn't understand women. They were loud, annoying, conniving, distracting and then there was _Her._

She was polite and quiet and smiled when he greeted her in the morning and even while serving him dinner and looked presentable at the company meetings. Ugh! Abruptly he halts at this thoughts feeling something moist at his bit him. Well the audacity of her! Smugly she grazes her teeth around the raw skin. She presses harder and it's becoming difficult for him to think now that she's straddling him, her hair brushing his face, her breath looming over the crease of his neck.

_You're very handsome_

He inhaled harder and harder and realised maybe last night wasn't over at all.

It ended even before it could begin. She pours the champagne and offers him a glass demurely, a vision in the white sheet wrapped around her. Holy Fucking god! He eyed her warily, as she grazed a sharp tooth over his ears and wished him morning. What a morning! He emptied his glass and took a swig of hers. Frowning, she yelped as she was pulled down and his tall figure looked at her. Smirking, he licked at her navel and watches her squirm and redden. Well shit. Uchihas weren't submissive. Never. He went down and south until her moans broke the silence in the room. Pure pleasure pulsated in his manhood as he was slowly being aware of how ticklish his wife was and how her cries reverberated with swelling pride in his chest.

Hours later, as the two huddled close, both breathing softly almost as a pant, he kisses her hair , a finger twirling a strand. She looks at him fondly and ruffles his messy black hair. God! How she loved him. Her husband holds her close, his large arms encircling her uncovered bare torso. She casually lifts the bowl of strawberries and dips one in whipped cream and feeds him. Sex and strawberries were quite a duo. Smirking he cocks his head from her stomach and licks the area, a trail of fresh chrism lingering wherever he marks her. He picks a crumb of chilli stem and watches evilly how she gasps tear-eyed as she had taken a handful of it sandwiched in the white cream. She pouts at him annoyed when he fills his own mouth with ice chips and crashes into her lips. Want and need all blurring into a thin line as her hands hover deep down near his loins and his protectively over the valley of her breasts.

Enveloping them was the chilly snow-laden, hill-facing cottage they had stayed in. The faint rays of setting sun bleeding into the night away from the madding crowd. Solitary, silent, queer. Just like either of them. And neither would have it any other way.


End file.
